A Shooting Star
by Kozmotis Pitchiner
Summary: Megatron and his Decepticon brothers have returned again. What does it take to get rid of these abominations? As usual, they are bent on world domination. But this time, the Autobots have gained new allies, and the Decepticons are going down once and for all.
1. Let the Monster Rise

**Title: **A Shooting Star

** Author: **Mademoiselle Juko Pax-Prime

**Rating: **PG+

**Summary: **Megatron and his Decepticon brothers have returned _again. _What does it take to get rid of these abominations? As usual, they are bent on world domination. But this time, the Autobots have gained new allies, and the Decepticons are going down once and for all.

**Content/Warnings: **Violence, character death, possible mild language, some innuendo, Cybertronian swear words, slight AU, contains OCs.

**Feedback: **YESSSSSS. I _love_ feedback. Please, review. PLEASE. Constructive criticism welcomed; flames will be redirected to the underside of a bus.

**Spoilers: **Set after DOTM, therefore spoilers ahead.

**Continuities: **Movie-verse, with elements from _Transformers Prime_, and characters/character designs from _Generation 1, Animated _and _Prime_.

**Disclaimer: **I do not and never will own Transformers. The franchise belongs to HasTak and all that Jazz. I only own my original characters and the Stealth Meteor. This was made purely for fun.

**Voila! The rewrite. I figured out that Mirage and the twins were only killed in the novel and comic adaptations of DOTM, so there was no need for canon plot altering. The sisters still being alive doesn't quite count as story altering; Chromia was **_**not **_**gunned down (watch ROTF, she wasn't shot, seriously), and Ratchet is skilled enough to rebuild Elita-One and Arcee. Plus, he had help from a very special someone. **

** Please enjoy the new (and hopefully improved) story!**

—

**XXXXX**

Knock Out pressed the final wire into place, and straightened up. His backstruts did not cooperate as nicely as usual, and he made a mental note to inspect them later. Right now, he had a more pressing concern. Two, in fact.

He reached out and felt along the back of the ex-gladiator's neck, looking for a particular gap in the wiring...he knew it was there; he had cut it himself. His digits found a small opening at about halfway between his shoulders and the base of his helm. He almost mistook it for the gap he was seeking, but remembered that it was lower. _That was close_, he thought, moving his fingers down. There it was, right above the shoulders, barely wide enough for Knock Out to slip a single pointed digit in.

For a split second, he thought he had guessed wrong _again_. But then he felt the stasis lock against his finger, and he pressed it firmly. The medic withdrew his hand quickly, and took a few steps back.

There was the sound of several gears grinding into place, followed by the _whoosh_ of air leaving intakes. The newly re-constructed vocalizer clicked a few times. Then, after a full six seconds of silence, Lord Megatron opened his optics.

He sat up, nearly ripping the cables supplying him with energon out of his chassis, and gave a low, guttural growl. Knock Out watched him carefully, waiting to see if he malfunctioned or if anything shorted out. Megatron looked around, clearly disoriented. His optics fell on Knock Out, and narrowed.

"What are you doing here? Your orders were to scout energon in Europe," he said.

"Please, Lord Megatron, don't overexert your systems," said Knock Out. "I will explain, as soon as I get Starscream online."

"Do you mean to tell me that he is _off_line?" asked Megatron, watching Knock Out as the red mech moved around the berth.

"You sound surprised, my lord," Knock Out replied. He swept back the thin curtain that divided the rather small medical tent into two sections, revealing a slim, elegantly designed frame lying on the other berth. It was a very different design than Megatron remembered; there seemed to be _less _of his second-in-command.

Knock Out found the stasis lock in Starscream's neck easily, and soon the Seeker was in an upright position, static issuing from his vocalizer.

"Oh, sorry," said Knock Out. He tilted Starscream's head back and adjusted one of the wires in his vocalizer. "There. Can you speak?"

"What is going on here?" Starscream demanded. He started to stand up, but Knock Out pushed him back onto the berth.

"Be careful," he warned. Starscream glowered at him.

"Knock Out! Explain, now," said Megatron. Knock Out picked up a welding torch.

"Right. Lie back, Lord Megatron, I need to close the slit in your throat," he said. He was stalling; he needed to choose his words carefully. It would not do to have Megatron stress his systems to the breaking point in anger.

Megatron lay back, and Knock Out leaned over him. "Why was Starscream offline?"

"He was killed in Chicago, about a year—in this planet's time—ago, my lord, and—"

"Chicago! I remember!" Megatron interrupted. "I remember Sentinel Prime...and there was a blonde human female. Optimus…Optimus was there!" He paused, closing his optics in concentration. "_What happened?_"

"Prime decapitated you and killed Sentinel," Knock Out said. He turned off the torch and examined his handiwork. Megatron's optics snapped open, and he looked straight at Knock Out.

"Decapitated? You mean I died?"

"Well...I was able to repair you and get you back online," Knock Out replied. He was deliberately avoiding the question, and he knew that Megatron sensed it. Thankfully, the titan did not press the matter.

"That still leaves the question of how we are here now, clearly functioning," said Megatron.

"Yes. Luckily, I specialize in..._delicate_ procedures, and I reconstructed the necessary components. Your head was not as heavily damaged as Starscream's, and the majority of your memory circuits were intact." Knock Out tapped his helm, then turned to Starscream. "Starscream, on the other hand…"

"My memory is fine!" said Starscream indignantly. "I know exactly who I am. I remember the war for Cybertron, and I remember the events of our battles on Earth."

"The major circuits are more or less fine, but I suspect some of his more personal memories are missing," said Knock Out, ignoring Starscream's outburst. "Past relationships, family, that kind of thing."

"But he is still fully functional as a warrior and as a Seeker?" Megatron asked.

"Completely."

"Then that is all that matters."

"What about this?" Starscream asked, gesturing to his new frame. "I do not recall looking like one of those...those human females that remove their clothing in flamboyant ways for money."

"They're called 'strippers', Commander," Knock Out said, "and much of your body was damaged. I didn't have the materials to rebuild it effectively, so I constructed a new one with the resources I had. It's much better suited for a flier, anyway; lightweight and streamlined."

"How dare—!"

"Enough!" Megatron cut across Starscream. "Knock Out, what about alternate modes?"

"Yours is still intact. You might have a little trouble shifting gears, but other than that, you don't _need _to scan a new one. Starscream does, though."

"Very well. Starscream, you are to find the most advanced jet possible, scan it, and return here. I don't care how long it takes."

"But—" Starscream started, his tone indignant again.

"Go. _Now!"_


	2. Shoot A Star On The Boulevard

**wow sorry about that huge error, i fixed it**

**XXXXX**

"To the brand-new, state-of-the-art, pilot-free Stealth Meteor and its first flight!" Tim Withers raised his glass, and the assembled men and women copied him. A cheer went up, and an auburn-haired teenager took this opportunity to slip out of the hangar into the bright Mojave Desert sunlight.

Evangeline Judith Withers narrowed her grey eyes against the sun. There was no cloud cover, and sunlight lit everything up with its brightness. It was warm, like it always was in the Antelope Valley in early-September, and Evangeline moved into the shadow cast by the hangar.

There was no one in sight; most of the pilots and engineers were inside at the celebration. The newest fighter jet, christened "Stealth Meteor", had just completed its first test flight, proving itself smarter than the average bear. The slender jet's artificial intelligence was high enough to outwit the best pilot on base, and its streamlined design helped it win a race against an F-22 Raptor. Outfitted with all the latest gadgetry—sonic radar, infrared tracking and heat-seeking missiles to name a few—, the Meteor was a deadly adversary. Definitely worth celebrating.

Evangeline walked along the side of the hangar, humming quietly. She reached the corner, and peered around it. Her eyes were immediately assaulted by bright light.

"Ack!" She put her hands over her eyes, pressing on them. Tiny black specks danced against a bright white background as she tried to recover, and she muttered angrily under her breath. Finally, Evangeline lowered her hands a little and sidestepped to the right.

As her vision cleared, she realized that the bright light had been sunlight glancing off of the nose of the Meteor. Evangeline blinked, and looked more closely at the jet. Sleek and dark, it radiated speed and power. Its wings looked formidable, like the wings of an eagle or a vulture. As an unmanned aerial vehicle, it did not need a pilot, and the lack of a cockpit added to its streamlined appearance. Evangeline had seen it slice through the air, almost faster than her eyes could follow. It gave her chills to know that such a beautiful, dangerous machine existed, and that her father had helped to make it a reality.

Tim Withers was very proud of the jet. He had been head of the design team, and while he couldn't tell his family anything about the blueprints—security and such—, his enthusiasm for the project was always clear. It was always a treat for him to see something go from the drawing board to the assembly line, but the Meteor was special.

A strange sound reached Evangeline's ears; a clicking, grinding noise. She turned around, and saw an enormous shadow. Instinct told her to hide, and she dashed around the corner of the hangar again.

"How dare Megatron treat me like some sort of servant," said a low, raspy voice. "I am his second-in-command, and I deserve more respect and appreciation. Especially when I exhaust my personal fuel supply by flying across the ocean to scan a fragging jet!"

_What on earth? _Evangeline thought. She did not recognize the voice, and even if she had, she certainly had no idea what they were talking about. It was English, but it was a very strange English. What was Megatron? _And I'm pretty sure "frag" is _not_ a word._

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked around the corner again.

A humanoid robot stood just behind the Meteor. It was at least twenty feet tall, even with its slightly hunched posture. It looked kind of...naked, too. Evangeline could see all of its wires and cables, and a soft blue light shone through small gaps in its chest.

The robot prowled around the Meteor, assessing its lines and build. "It'll do," it said finally. There was a split second pause.

Then the robot raised its hand, and a white grid appeared on the Meteor's right wing. It flickered, then passed to the body of the jet. It repeated the process several times, each time scanning a different piece of the jet. As Evangeline watched, the robot took on the plane's physical attributes: sleek black armor, powerful wings, a sense of speed and strength. Then, it _transformed_ _into the Stealth Meteor. _

"What the—?!" Evangeline gasped. She immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, and shrank back from the corner. She closed her eyes, and silently hoped that this was all a hallucination.

Then, the hangar door opened wider and several pilots walked out, talking loudly. Evangeline opened her eyes, hardly daring to breathe.

"Hey, Evangeline!" said one of the pilots. His name was Roger. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, uh...I was just admiring the Meteor. It's a really nice jet," Evangeline replied. She did not mention the transforming robot. They would think she was crazy…'cause she was.

"That it is," said Carrie, another pilot. "I just hope it doesn't put us all out of work!" The others laughed, and they all walked away. Evangeline sighed, and rubbed her eyes. At least it hadn't seen her. Even though it didn't exist. Whatever. She definitely wanted to go home and sleep—forget about what she _thought_ she'd seen.

**XXXXX**

"...the assignment won't be due until May, so you have more than enough time to work on it," said Mr. Hall. Most of the class didn't seem to be paying attention; half of the girls were texting under their desks and most of the boys were seeing how sharp they could get their pencils before they snapped. It was apparently a test of their masculinity. Only a few students were actually listening; among them Megan Wolf, John Turk, and Evangeline Withers.

Evangeline dotted the _i _in _until_ and put down her pencil. She was eager to find out who her partner was, so that they could get started on the project and get it out of the way. Mr. Hall began listing the teams, and Evangeline listened hard for her name. As a _W_, her partner would probably be announced last.

"…Lizzie White will work with Todd Hart, and Evangeline Withers will work with Vincent Tamberly."

"No!" Evangeline said aloud, at the exact same moment that all of the other girls said, "Awww!"

"Sorry, ladies," said Vincent, turning around in his seat. "Maybe next time." Then he looked at Evangeline and winked. Evangeline put her head on her desk in despair, just as the dismissal bell rang.

"Don't forget that there's an assembly tomorrow!" Mr. Hall called after the quickly departing students. Vincent swaggered over to Evangeline's desk.

"Hiya, partner," he said, grinning. Evangeline raised her head and glared at him. "What's wrong? Don't you like me?"

"No," Evangeline snapped. She stood up and grabbed her backpack. She nearly hit Vincent with it as she slung it over her shoulder.

"What?! Why not?" asked Vincent.

"Oh, let me count the ways…" Evangeline walked out of the classroom, Vincent following close behind. "Do you even know what the project _is_?"

"Uh...something about the profits of old people?"

"No! We have to analyze the profits of a business over the last twenty years, make a presentation and report on it. Are you going to help?"

"Nope."

"And you wonder why I dislike you."

"Come on, babe, don't be like that…" Evangeline stopped in her tracks and whirled around. Vincent nearly ran into her, and backpedaled quickly.

"Do _not_ call me 'babe', Vincent. My name is Evangeline. That is the _only_ name you are allowed to address me by, get it?" she said, pointing a finger threateningly at him.

"Calm down, I got it! Sheesh!" Vincent said, putting up his hands in surrender. Evangeline glared at him for a second more, then turned and continued towards the south parking lot. She knew that Vincent was following her, but she didn't pay him any more attention.

They reached the parking lot, and Evangeline pointed herself towards the empty construction lots down the road; it was a faster way to get home. She walked past the cars without thinking twice about the models, or the unfamiliar cars. She wasn't very interested in cars, much less her teachers' cars. Vincent, however, exclaimed in excitement halfway across the lot.

"Evangeline! Look at this!" he said.

"What?" Evangeline turned around, and saw Vincent staring at a silver car. It was sleek, and very streamlined. Evangeline did not recognize the model, but that wasn't a surprise. The front end reminded her of a shark, and it definitely looked expensive.

And Vincent was running his hands all over it, leaving smears and handprints on its pristine silver paintjob.

"A Chevrolet Corvette Stingray…" he said, his voice full of awe. "This has been my dream car since forever!"

"It looks too new to be more than five years old," said Evangeline. "I don't think that quite counts as 'forever."

"Whatever!" Vincent leaned down and peered into the driver's side window. "I can't see anything. These windows are seriously blacked out."

"You shouldn't be touching it anyway." Evangeline looked around the parking lot again, her gaze lingering on a white-and-gold Vespa parked in the space adjacent to the Stingray. Since when did teachers ride Vespas? Then she returned her attention to Vincent. "Why am I even waiting for you?" She started to walk again, and Vincent ran to catch up with her.

"That thing is _way_ too good for this parking lot. It's too good for this city! Man! What I wouldn't give for a ride like that…" he said wistfully. Evangeline rolled her eyes.

They had reached the construction lots, and no one was around. The street was visible, but just barely. Evangeline only took the shortcut on sunny days like today, and she never dawdled. She was almost halfway glad for Vincent's company in the deserted stretch of dirt.

"Why are we going through here?" asked Vincent.

"Why are you following me home?" Evangeline shot back. Vincent opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a jet screaming overhead. Evangeline looked up, and saw the Stealth Meteor turning around.

It was heading straight for them.


	3. And So It Begins

**XXXXX**

"What is going on?!" Vincent yelled over the roar of the Meteor. Evangeline didn't reply. She was stunned by the sight of the jet as it sped towards them. "Hey! Evangeline! Get out of the way!"

Vincent grabbed Evangeline's arm and pulled her closer to the back wall of the lot, just out of the jet's way. The Meteor shot past them, and Evangeline could have sworn she heard it shout "Frag!" It performed a loop-de-loop, and fell towards the ground. It transformed before it hit, and the robot landed on its feet. The same robot that Evangeline had seen on Edwards Air Force Base.

"I found you, fleshling!" it growled. It reached for Evangeline with one long fingered hand, and Vincent let out a high-pitched scream. Absurdly, Evangeline was more shocked by that than the giant robot trying to kill her. Maybe that's what happens when you face death—the things that normally matter least matter the most.

Vincent practically tackled Evangeline, almost knocking her to the ground but giving her a split second to register the situation. The robot hissed angrily, and straightened up.

"It would be easier to simply smash you under my foot!" it said. It stepped forward, but before it could do anything else, something silver shot past. It zipped past the jet robot's legs, and slashes appeared in the metal. The jet screeched in anger and probably pain, and tried to swat at its adversary. The silver blur slowed enough to reveal that it was _also_ a robot, with wheels for feet and large triangular blades on its arms.

It went around the jet's legs, and sped towards another, smaller robot standing a few meters away, its armor white-and-gold. The silver robot picked up the smaller one as though it were a javelin.

"Ready, Crash?" it shouted.

"Ready!" the white-and-gold robot replied. The silver bot threw it into the air, high above the jet. The white-and-gold robot twisted in midair, and a grappling hook shot out of its arm and attached itself to the right side of the jet's face. "Gotcha!"

The grappling hook closed and retracted, ripping away half of the jet's face. The jet staggered backwards, clutching its face and shrieking in a strange language. The white-and-gold robot landed on the ground with an audible _thud_, and its silver companion went in.

"You're thinner than I remember, Starscream!" shouted the silver bot. "Has Megatron been starving you?" The jet—Starscream—lashed out blindly, and the bladed robot cut into its arm. Starscream let out an animal-like growl, and transformed back into the Stealth Meteor.

"Coward!" yelled the silver bot, as the jet sped away. Then it turned to the white-and-gold one. "Contact base, tell them that we have two civilians in custody and Starscream is headed southeast."

"Got it." The smaller bot put a hand to its temple. "Crashcomet to base."

Evangeline and Vincent were both on the ground, staring open-mouthed at the robots. Vincent's eyes were as big as dinner plates, and they widened further as the silver robot rolled towards them.

"Alright, you two," it said. "Listen closely, and hold your questions. My name is Sideswipe, I'm an Autobot. That thing that just attacked you, that's a Decepticon. Crashcomet and I need to get you to our base just outside the city, and we'll explain everything there. Capisce?"

The two teens stared blankly for a few seconds. Then Vincent started laughing. Evangeline looked at him, appalled.

"I'm on drugs!" Vincent said gleefully. "That's the only explanation for what just happened! It's a hallucination!" He started wiggling his fingers and making ghost noises.

"This was _not_ a hallucination, kid," said Sideswipe. It—he? Its voice sounded male—transformed into the Stingray that Vincent had been fawning over. "Get in. It's about a half hour your time to base."

Vincent stood up and helped Evangeline to her feet. "I'm not getting in because you don't exist!" he said, dusting off his jeans. "And you can't sit in things that don't exist, because—"

The white-and-gold robot grabbed Vincent around the waist and threw him into the Stingray. It reached for Evangeline, but she ducked and dodged it.

"I can walk just fine, thank you," she said, her voice remarkably steady considering everything that just happened. The robot shrugged.

"Just trying to be helpful," it said. Evangeline nodded stiffly, and got in the car. The door closed by itself, and Vincent fainted. He flopped over onto Evangeline's lap. She gritted her teeth.

"This is going to be a _long _ride…"

**XXXXX**

It was virtually impossible to see out of the blackened-windows of the Stingray, so Evangeline had no idea where they were when they stopped. The drive had gotten bumpy towards the end, but smoothed out for the last few seconds. were when they stopped. The drive had gotten bumpy towards the end, but smoothed out for the last few seconds.

Vincent was drooling on Evangeline's leg, and she pushed him off with a disgusted sigh.

"Wake up!" she hissed, slapping him. He jerked awake, and took a moment to register his surroundings.

"Aw...I was hoping that was all some wacked-out dream," he said, disappointed. Evangeline ignored him, and looked around the car.

"What do we do n—?" she wondered aloud. She broke off when the Stingray door opened by itself.

"Are we supposed to get out?" asked Vincent in a hushed voice.

"Yes," said a voice. Evangeline jumped, then remembered that she was sitting in a car that transformed into a sentient robot. "We're here."

Evangeline glanced at Vincent. He seemed unwilling to make the first move, and raised his eyebrows at her. She sighed, and got out of the car. She took a moment to brush off her jeans before she looked up, and when she did, she nearly fell over backwards in shock.

She was _surrounded_ by robots, robots of all different sizes, colors and shapes. She recognized the white-and-gold one, who was hopping from one foot to the other excitedly. The largest bot, at least thirty feet tall and painted red-and-blue, watched Evangeline unblinkingly. She felt like disappearing into the floor.

A high-pitched squeak informed her that Vincent had exited the car and seen the robots as well. "Mother of God," he said faintly, "they're everywhere."

There was the sound of metal sliding over metal and the click of advanced mechanics settling into place as Sideswipe transformed. He rolled around Evangeline and Vincent, and stopped in front of the red-and-blue robot.

"I take it these are the civilians that Crashcomet reported?" the bot asked. Its voice was deep and resonant.

"Yep," said Sideswipe. "The boy fainted on the way here, but the girl seems relatively calm."

"That's impressive," said a blue robot. It had a single wheel instead of feet, and its frame resembled a woman's body.

"Hey!" said Evangeline, raising her voice. The robots all turned to her, and she shrank back slightly. "Uh, would you mind explaining all this to us?" she said, gesturing to everyone in the proximity. The red-and-blue robot stepped forward and knelt down so that its face was closer to eye level for the two teenagers.

"You may refer to us as 'Autobots,'" it said. "I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots." Evangeline raised an eyebrow, and opened her mouth to ask the obligatory "And what are the Autobots?", but Vincent beat her to it.

"What the hell are Autobots?" he asked, his tone anything but polite. "Some kind of...of alien super race? Are you going to dissect us?!" Optimus Prime drew back slightly, the components of his face twisting into a very recognizable expression: disgust.

"We are not barbarians," he said, straightening up to his full height. "We do not intend on dissecting you."

"Yet," said a lime green robot. Vincent whimpered like a frightened puppy, and took a step back.

"Don't scare them more than I'm sure Crashcomet already has, Ratchet," said a voice from behind the robot. Evangeline couldn't see the speaker, but it sounded like a woman.

"Too late," Vincent muttered. Optimus Prime looked down at them for a moment, then turned to the green robot.

"Mikaela, perhaps you ought to explain this to them. They may take it better from a fellow human," he said.

"I'm pretty sure that that is not a human," said Evangeline, slightly confused. The green robot ignored her and did not move.

"I guess," said the same woman's voice. There were a few seconds of silence, then a dark-haired woman stepped out from behind the green bot. As she got closer to Evangeline and Vincent, Vincent straightened up and smoothed his hair back. Evangeline glanced at him, and rolled her eyes at his smug expression. The dark-haired woman raised her eyebrows at him.

"Hi there," she said. "I'm Mikaela." She held out a hand, and Evangeline shook it. Vincent reached out, but Mikaela withdrew her hand before he could touch it. "What are your names?"

"I'm Evangeline," Evangeline said.

"Vincent K Tamberly at your service," said Vincent. His voice was slightly lower than it had been two minutes ago. Mikaela gave him a patronizing smile, and put one hand on her hip.

"Well," she began, "these are the Autobots. They're from this planet called Cybertron—very far away, don't try to find it with your telescopes—, and they fight for justice."

"So why are they here on Earth?" asked Evangeline. "Why do we matter to them?"

"Cybertron was destroyed by what they call "the Great War", eons ago," Mikaela explained. "And we matter to them because they believe that freedom is the right of all sentient beings."

"It's kind of our motto," said a pink robot. It was slender, and leaned heavily on a pair of crutches secured to its arms.

"Right. That's Elita-One," said Mikaela, "she commands the female Autobots."

"So there are girl robots?" Vincent asked dumbly.

"They aren't _girls_, per se," Mikaela told him. "Let's not get into that right now. Maybe I'll explain it to you another time...if you ask nicely." She winked playfully at him.

"You said there was a war," Evangeline said, before Vincent could start trying to flirt with Mikaela. "Who were they fighting with?"

"The Decepticons," Mikaela said simply. Evangeline laughed shortly, covering her eyes with one hand.

"I need you to _explain_ these terms, I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "What are the Decepticons?"

"Not what, who," said another voice. Evangeline lowered her hand. "Move, Ratchet, I like to see who I'm speaking to." The green robot moved aside to reveal another, darker blue robot. It was lying on what Evangeline guessed was an examination table, with wires and cables hooked up to its legs. "The Decepticons are cold, sadistic fraggers who like to destroy lives and enslave races," it said. "Their leader, Megatron, was pretty much the harbinger of death."

"Was?" asked Vincent.

"I killed him," said Optimus Prime. "Almost a year ago in human terms. He gave me little choice."

"Wait. Then what was that thing that just attacked us?" asked Evangeline.

"Starscream," said Sideswipe.

"Optimus, you told us he was dead!" said a red robot. It had a thick Italian accent.

"And I believed it as much as you did, Mirage," said Optimus Prime. "But it seems I was wrong."

"I don't know, Optimus, he might have been dead before," said Sideswipe. "His frame was definitely different. I only recognized him because his energy signature is the same. Maybe he was repaired."

"But…" Optimus Prime trailed off.

"Knock Out," said Elita-One. "Didn't he specialize in circuitry and delicate procedures?"

"Yes, he did," said the green robot. "I remember that well."

"If Starscream has been rebuilt, then it would only make sense that Knock Out fixed Megatron as well," said the bot on the examination table, its tone dark.

"If you are correct, Arcee, then this situation is far graver than I thought," said Optimus Prime. "Tell me, Evangeline, do you have any idea why Starscream may have targeted you?" Evangeline thought for a moment.

"I did see him on Edwards Air Force Base yesterday," she said slowly. "I didn't think he noticed me, though."

"Guess you weren't lucky enough," said Mikaela.

"So what are we going to do with them, Optimus?" asked the red bot. "Turn them over to NEST?"

"NEST, what's NEST?" asked Vincent. "What is that, a secret alien robot organization?"

"Paranoid, aren't you?" Mikaela said mildly.

"Paranoid? Of course I'm paranoid, I just got attacked by a giant fu—"

"Enough!" said Optimus Prime, cutting Vincent off. "General Morshower and Lieutenant Lennox will be duly informed, but I do not believe we will need to turn the children over to them. However, they should be given protection." Evangeline raised her eyebrows.

"What kind of protection?" she asked.

"A guardian," said Mikaela. "He'll assign one of these bots to protect you at all times."

"Correct, Mikaela. Sideswipe, will you consent to act as guardian to Vincent?" Optimus Prime asked Sideswipe. Sideswipe nodded, and Vincent pumped his fist in the air.

"My mom will _freak_ when she sees me coming home in a Stingray!" he yelled. He proceeded to cabbage-patch, singing, "I have a ca-ar, I have a ca-ar" under his breath.

"And Evangeline…" Optimus Prime trailed off, looking around at the assembled robots. His gaze fell on the white-and-gold one for a moment, and it immediately started jumping up and down.

"Ooh! I'll do it!" it cried, waving its arms in the air. The Prime did not acknowledge her, and continued to look for a different option.

"Ratchet—"

"Busy!" the green robot said instantly, turning back to the blue robot lying on the examination table.

"Me! Pick me!" The white-and-gold bot continued to hop around erratically, and Optimus Prime continued to pass over it.

"Mirage?" he asked, almost desperately. The red robot with the Italian accent held up its hands and shook its head.

"_Non, _no way," it said.

"Optimus, Crashcomet is more than willing," said Elita-One. "She looks about ready to tackle you again." The white-and-gold bot—Crashcomet—stopped jumping and nodded enthusiastically.

"Please, Optimus? I really really really want to!" she said, clasping her hands under her chin in a pleading gesture. Optimus Prime regarded her for a few moments, then blew air out of his intakes in the mechanical equivalent of a defeated sigh and nodded.

"Very well," he said, "you may be Evangeline's guardian, Crashcomet."

"Yesss!" Crashcomet shouted, and one of her optics flickered. Evangeline smiled—a bit nervously—and tried to think of something to say. Luckily, she was saved the trouble by Sideswipe, who transformed and opened his door.

"I'll take you both home," he said. Vincent jumped in the car enthusiastically, all previous reservations gone. Evangeline got in after him, much less eagerly and with far more caution. Sideswipe waited for her to buckle her seat belt, and closed his door. Evangeline gave him her address, and then it was quiet for a minute or two.

"That was so cool!" Vincent blurted finally, bouncing in his seat. He grinned at Evangeline, but she just glared at him.

"You nearly wet yourself when Starscream showed up, Vincent," she said. "And now you think these things are cool? We could have been killed."

"Yeah, so? We didn't die, and now we have giant robot guardians to protect us," Vincent replied.

"For now. And what happens if these...Decepticons kill them?"

"They won't."

"How do you know?"

"Look, Evangeline, we are more than capable of protecting you," Sideswipe interjected. Evangeline snorted.

"Really?"

"Really. We've dealt with the Decepticons for eons. We know how to handle them."

"See?" said Vincent, his tone smug, "we're safe. Nothing to worry about." Evangeline crossed her arms over her chest, and the rest of the ride was silent.

When they reached Evangeline's house, she got out quickly. "Good night," she said, rather stiffly.

"Good night!" said Vincent.

"I wasn't talking to you," Evangeline snapped, and she slammed the door shut.


End file.
